


out cold

by bibliotaphist



Series: home is where you make it [1]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Angor is Claire's troll dad, Gen, nothing too intense but there's blood, some middle of the road depictions of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliotaphist/pseuds/bibliotaphist
Summary: i honestly just want to write a bunch of little drabbles with Angor being part of the extended Trollhunters family. it's a continuation of sorts to my original Touch fic, but it's not totally necessary to get this one.anyways, Angor, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh are in love and raising three accident-prone kids
Relationships: Aaarrrgghh/Blinky/Angor Rot, Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez
Series: home is where you make it [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617895
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	out cold

The Forge was unusually warm that afternoon. The procession of Eulogists below left the stagnant air heavy with smoke and incense, dispensed from heavy bronze censers, swinging penduously from the hand of the minister; sandalwood, burnt over course-ground halite. Supposedly, the fragrant smoke carried with it prayers for the departed, cantillated by rows of stooping priests.

Angor wondered if the dead could suffer migraines.

He lounged in the crook of a low-hanging balcony, watching as the twin columns of worshipers filed out of the Forge, muttering gently in some peculiar dialect. In his hands, he rolled a lump of smooth white stone.

It was a chunk of soft marble, a gift from Toby; he’d found it in some old quarry during one of his frequent rock hunts. As much as Angor tried to pretend the gift was meaningless, it made a secret part of him twist with fondness. The children, despite his resistance, were growing on him. He really was going soft.

Almost reverently, he drew his knife. Poised to make the first cut into the unformed stone, he stopped short. The silence was broken by the faraway sound of labored breathing and strained, unintelligible voices, echoing off the vaulting stone walls. Irritably, Angor shifted to peer down at the entrance.

An awkward, lumpy mass appeared through the gloom and wreathes of smoke. It shuffled lopsidedly, swaying to and fro with every step. It gave odd noises as it went, groaning as it’s weight shifted.

“Hello?” The shape cried.

Angor heard Jim before he recognized him. Leaning forward in his perch, Angor squinted.

He counted one red head of hair, and two black; Claire was pressed tightly between the boys, an arm draped over each set of shoulders. Stabbing his knife into it’s sheathe, he jumped. He landed on all fours, squarely before the trio. Toby and Jim yelped, leaping backwards, and Claire moaned. Angor bolted upright in shock.

Claire hung limply off Jim and Toby, dangling by her shoulders, head slumped so far forward he couldn’t see her face through the tangle of hair. She stood only on her left foot, her right leg bent at the knee. Sprouting from her thigh was a long, thin arrow, fletched with a stiff feather. A sluggish trickle of blood dripped from the puncture, pooling at her knee and splashing to the stone floor below. Listlessly, she rolled her head up to look at him.

“Surpriiiise,” she droned dully.

“What happened?” Angor barked. At once, Jim and Toby broke into indecipherable shouting, stumbling over each other.

“--Down in the archives, we wanted to find--”

“--Stupid troll dictionary! Why did we even need a dictionary?”

“Who the hell just leaves a crossbow laying around? What are you even guarding? Some freaky troll porn?”

“Uuuuugghhh,” groaned Claire.

Angor dared a look at Claire’s injury. By his estimation, the arrow had sunk near halfway through her leg, undoubtedly buried in some delicate muscle group or another. Luckily, they had the sense not to pull it out, so the slow drip of blood wasn’t as concerning as the glazed over look in Claire’s eyes.

“It’s not that bad,” she mumbled, cautiously lowering her wounded foot to test her weight. Immediately, she winced and raised it again.

“Not that bad?” replied Toby, aghast. “Claire, you’re stuck like a freakin’ shish kebab!”

“ _Yeah_ , Toby, _I noticed_.” she hissed back.

“Blinkous isn’t here. We’ll need someone else.”

“You mean we have to walk all the way back?” Jim looked faint. “We barely got her down here!” Over his shoulder, he tried to take Claire’s hand, but she batted him away.

“I told you, I can make it!” Claire probably meant to sound angry, but her voice was taut and her face pinched with pain.

Angor rolled his eyes. Brushing Toby and Jim aside, Angor took the startled Claire under her arms.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?” Jim took his wrist.

Angor shook him off. “Out of the way.” Claire made an indignant noise as he lifted her, trying to position her without jostling the arrow. Hissing, she clutched at the swollen flesh around the puncture, blood smearing on her shaking hands.

“Stop touching it,” Angor snapped. “I’m taking you to Vendel.”

Claire obeyed, but her wet fists clenched till her knuckles were white. She grit out between her teeth, “Will he know what to do?”

Angor shrugged. “If anyone knows, it’ll be him.” Looking at the boys, he said sharply, “Keep up.”

He tried to keep his gait even as he hurried towards the healing dwell, but she still hissed in pain at every step. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, clutching his horn like a handhold. Angor allowed it.

“Is it bad?” She grit out, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“I don’t know.” he grunted. Humans were so soft and squishy, it seemed a stiff breeze could kill them. For that matter, he had no idea if Vendel would know what to do, but kept that to himself.

Toby and Jim had to jog to keep up with him. Toby was red-faced and huffing, but trotting along gamely. “Don’t worry, Claire, it missed the artery!” Jim called up to her. “At least, I think it did.”

“That’s reassuring, Jim, thanks.” Claire still sounded belabored, but her voice carried a prick of humor.

They rounded the corridor just as Vendel was leaving, staff and a book in hand. Angor had to stop short to avoid walking into him.

“Vendel!” Jim lunged at him, seizing him by the arm, followed by Toby. “Claire’s hurt, you gotta fix her!”

“She’s skewered, man!” brayed Toby.

“Slow down, Trollhunter!” Vendel resisted as he was dragged along. “What on Earth are you two talking abou-”

He stopped short when he saw Claire, eyes jumping from her face to the arrow.

“Oh, my. Well, best come in, then.” With a resigned air, he gestured into the entrance of the healing dwell. “You three wear me to pebbles.”  
  
Angor had only just set Claire down on the table when Vendel brushed past him. He leaned in to peer curiously at the injury.

“What have you lot been up to this time?”

“It’s… a long story.” Jim rubbed his arm sheepishly. “Can you get it out, though?”

Vendel prodded delicately at the swollen flesh around the entry point. “Well, certainly. But it will hurt.” He glanced up at Claire. “That means, I suggest you get something to bite.”

Claire blanched. “Uh, okay. Jim, give me your wallet.” Jim fumbled it from his pocket and passed it to her. “Toby,” she tossed him her phone. “Take a video.”

“Take a _what_?” he asked, horrified.

“I wanna watch this later,” she replied.

“That’s so nasty.” Nonetheless, he leveled the phone, a tiny light blinking to life.

Vendel ignored them, bent over his apothecary table, swirling a cloudy liquid in a phial. In one hand, he crushed a small white crystal into a rough powder before sprinkling it into the mixture. With a puff of steam, the fluid turned a dark, tepid green.

“Drink this,” he held out the phial, and Claire took it. Suspiciously, she looked into the bottle, sniffing delicately.

“What is it?”

“A draught for the pain. I’ll need to pull it, and you won’t want your wits about you.”

Claire looked at Vendel from under her brows. “This won’t kill me, right?”

“Probably not. Best knock it back quickly; you won’t like the taste.”

Taking a deep breath, Claire drank the potion in one pull. Jim took her shoulder, helping her lie back on the hard stone table.

“You,” Angor lifted his head suddenly as Vendel turned to him. “Hold her leg.” Angor gave Claire an uneasy glance, but Vendel snapped, “Do you want to help or not?”

Angor shared a look with Claire, until she gave him a tight smile, and he shrugged before reluctantly wrapping one hand around her calf, the other cupping the wound with the curve of this thumb and forefinger.

Vendel wrapped a length of cord around her thigh, just above the wound, and pulled it tight. Glancing up at her, he said “Now.”

Claire stuffed the leather wallet between her teeth, grimacing at the taste. Vendel produced a dish full of various implements, from which he pulled a pair of dainty tongs.

“Are you ready?” Claire nodded, blowing a breath through her nose. “Alright. One, two,” Vendel took the hold of the arrow. “Three!”

Claire shrieked around the wallet. Jim and Toby moaned with horror. The arrow came out with a wet squelch.

Vendel stood holding the arrow, slick with blood nearly three inches up the shaft. “Well, that was easy.”

Behind him, Toby swayed and promptly collapsed face first on the floor. Vendel looked on blithely as Jim shook him. “Humans. So squeamish.”

Toby groaned. Angor snorted, and looked back to Claire.

She’d sat up again, head lolling while her shoulders twitched strangely. Crooking a brow, Angor held out a hand.

“Are you alright?”

Claire lifted her head, and her face was split with a huge, drunken grin. The twitching was her restrained laughter, making her jerk like a marionette. Spitting out the wallet with it’s new bite marks, she screamed with laughter.

“That hurt,” she shrieked. “So fucking bad!”

Angor and Vendel shared a look, then Vendel shrugged.

“Very well, fleshling.” Toby had risen off the floor, holding his nose, blood dripping between his open fingers. Idly, Vendel handed him his kerchief, Toby pinching up an end and stuffing it up his nostril.

“Don’t worry, Claire. I’ve eaten tons of troll food that I probably shouldn’t, and I’m fine.” Toby rested his chin on his chubby forearms, grinning lopsidedly.

Claire hummed idly in response, head rolling to one side. Angor peered over Toby’s shoulder at her.

“That was fast,” he remarked to Vendel.

“Fleshbags and their metabolisms,” tutted Vendel, shuffling about his table. “A wonder they manage to get anything done, for how fast they’re in their cups.”

“I love the Cup song,” trilled Claire from her supine position. “Jim, Jim play the Cup song!”

“Claire, that meme’s dead.”

“PLAY IT.”

“Oh, God.” said Jim.

Angor sat quietly to one side of the convalescent cave, tucking in to an empty chip bag Toby had whisked from his backpack. As he chewed, he observed.

The children were piled on top of each other like a litter of puppies, Claire long since dead to the world. She snored softly, head resting on Jim’s belly, leg propped up on Toby’s stomach. Once she’d fallen asleep, Jim and Toby felt too guilty to move, so they lay with her until they’d dozed off too.

Angor glanced over at them, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. Drunk fleshbags were more entertaining than he’d expected; Toby had shown Claire a picture of a cat, and she’d promptly burst into tears.

“It looks like NotEnriqueeee,” she’d blubbered, nose dripping. “It’s so ugly, I love it so much.”

The sound of pounding feet lifted his gaze to the entrance of the dwell. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh appeared at the mouth, flustered and breathless.

“Where are they?” asked a harried Blinky. “We came as soon as we heard. Are they alright?”

“Sleeping,” replied Angor, gesturing at them to keep it down. “The girl is fine, barely a scratch.”

“She had an arrow in her!” Blinky pressed. Aaarrrgghh left his side to examine the children, sniffing furtively.

“And now, it’s out.” Angor replied, drawing Blinky to the bedside. “She’s fine.” Blinky inspected the bandage wrapped tightly around her thigh, and heaved a tired sigh, his shoulders relaxing.

“These three will be the death of me.” he said fondly.

“You’ve said as much.”

Aaarrrgghh, satisfied with his examination, snorted decisively and rejoined them. Angor glanced around, then discreetly bumped foreheads with the pair. They accepted gratefully, and Blinky grasped his shoulder.

“I’m glad you were here.” he smiled tiredly.

“Someone has to keep an eye on them.” he hadn’t meant to sound so affectionate, but Blinky’s eyes crinkled into a smile.

“Well, I’m glad it’s you.”


End file.
